Moments
by LoverGurrl411
Summary: A deeper look into Bellamy and Clarke's conversation and hug in 3x13. Bellarke. "He's so tired of caring. But he can't stop. It's not who he is, and it's not who she is. It's not who they'll ever be willing to be to each other. They'll care. They'll care until they're broken and bleeding, and hopefully find some salvation in caring for each other through it all" (One-Shot).
Disclaimer – I own nothing.

A.N - Just a quick one-shot. Someone (ship-neutral) asked me to explain why I ship Bellarke. This scene came to mind, so I decided to make a picture and write a quick story detailing how I see what was said and done. Hope everyone enjoys!

The picture is posted on my tumblr (tumblr name: lovergurrl411) in case anyone would like to go check it out! ;)

Moments

By LoverGurrl411

"Forgiving is hard for us" Bellamy says gruffly.

He's talking about him and Octavia, but he's also talking about him and Clarke too. _Them_. The _them_ that they never talk about, that they might never acknowledge, and that may never actually exist past silent gazes and swift touches here and there that leave their skin burning afterwards.

But they do exist. They exist, _truly_ , in the acts of honesty that hurts and moves something deep inside of each other.

 _Fuck_ , he wants to cry and shout and slam into the Earth until things are like before. But _before_ has long gone, and he can't hold all of that in anymore.

"I was so angry at you for leaving," he starts, and he's ready to tear Clarke to shreds. Let her feel a fraction of what he felt. _So ready_. But her eyes pierce him. _She_ pierces him, and he's lost. "I don't wanna feel that way anymore."

He's lost and found. _Fuck_ , he's so tired of caring. But he can't stop. He can't stop. Not now, not ever.

It's not who he is, and it's not who she is. It's not who they'll ever be willing to be to each other. They'll care. They'll care until they're broken and bleeding, and hopefully find some salvation in caring for each other through it all.

A barely there smile mixes with a grimace on Clarke's face, and maybe, _just maybe_ , she's lost and found too.

"You know, you're not the only one trying to forgive yourself," she levels with him but there's a _relief_ in her eyes. It jumps and wiggles, and guts him; he can almost hate her for making him want to make everything okay again. "Maybe we'll get that someday."

And _damn it -_ a tear slips down his cheek, and he brushes it away roughly. He's not ashamed. They both know that she's talking about more than just forgiveness and his tears are about more than the _them_ that haunts them quietly. Because they're not about _that_ , and it might never be about _that_.

Everything feels like it's crashing in on him. _Too much_. _Focus_. But he can't, not when the echo of her words chase him; _maybe we'll get that someday._

 _That_ : forgiveness, happiness, a future past all the blood and despair, a love that won't die or disappear into the stars and universe-there's no way that Bellamy will ever believe that Gina's not among the stars watching over him; there's no way that Clarke will ever accept that Lexa might be _truly_ gone and among her ancestors, with Costia.

He can't look at her, and she can't look away from him. Somehow, along the way, she stopped being the light, and he stopped being the darkness.

But here on the beach, with the sound of the ocean in her ears and Bellamy's tears in the air, she can own that. She can _accept_ that they're not who they were...but at least they changed together. _Together. Maybe we'll get that someday._

Something about his tears, still falling silently, his posture of defeat so desperate, the prideful tilt of his chin so masculine, and the fire in his eyes that still rages despite everything anoints her. She can _see_.

 _I need you, I need you_ , it's always her. Every time she says it she's linked tighter to him, and a feeling of resentment sweeps past her (there and then gone) that she needs to remind him that it'll never be okay for him to leave her all alone. That she can't do this, _Earth_ , without him. He's never said it, and perhaps he never needed to. _Maybe we'll get that someday._

"But we need each other," she reminds him, and finally, _finally_ , grasps that he he may need her back, even if he's never said it. Their gazes lock. She reminds him because she's selfish and _she doesn't want to lose him too_. She reminds him because there's so much to be said that they'll never actually say. "What we're doing now, the only way we're gonna pull this off is _together_."

The fire in him roars at the ready, willing to fight to the bitter end. The wind shifts slightly. Bellamy nods. He nods, and in this simple action he tells her that he's _with her_ , _always_.

The devotion that Clarke can feel in one nod from Bellamy moves her. _Them. Together. Guilty, but not alone_.

The space between them is suffocating in the face of all that's been said and all that they might never say. So she moves swiftly as she wraps her arms around his neck. He doesn't pause-they're over being hesitant. They're better than that.

 _We need each other_. His hand tangles itself in her hair, crushing her to him.

 _Maybe we'll get that someday_. She feels his breath hot as he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

She smiles, and lets hope wash over her.

 _Forgiving is hard for us_ , yea, but it's possible. It's possible, and they let the possibility of forgiveness and _so much more_ (even if they never really get to be about _that_ ) hold them for just a moment longer.

Because though they're not about _that_ , and it might never be about _that,_ it could be. It could be, and that matters, maybe even more than if they actually were.

****** The End *******

My explanation (for anyone who cares to know why I ship Bellarke):

Bellarke isn't a ship that sails on the wings of a grand love story filled with larger than life gestures and declarations-bellarke isn't a ship about romance. It's a ship that sails on an ocean of hope, and a breeze filled with faith and tiny moments of devotion that are worth more than a quick "I love you"; these moments are about being _grateful_ that the other person _exists_.

To believe in Bellarke is to believe in the power and endurance of _possibility_ and a love so true and pure (regardless if it ever evolves outwardly into romance) that the only way it can exist is complicatedly.


End file.
